


Midwinter Dance

by Rachy



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M, Goldenlake, PPF, Peculiar Pairings Ficathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 10:05:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachy/pseuds/Rachy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Squire, Neal does get a chance to dance with Princess Kalasin at the Midwinter Ball after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midwinter Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Goldenlake's PPF 2009 (Peculiar Pairings Ficathon).
> 
> “Did Cleon kiss you for Midwinter luck?” a familiar voice drawled in her ear.  
> “Did Princess Kalasin ask for a dance at the ball tomorrow night?” she retorted to Neal.  
> Squire, Chapter 9: Midwinter Luck

He watched as she lounged casually upon the chair. She was alone, as lonely as the first single snowflake, and wasn't surrounded by her usual horde of panting courtiers, waiting to catch the snowflake on their tongue. To claim it as theirs. He watched as she picked up the small apple from the plate of fruit sitting next to her, and decided that it was better to approach now, rather then never. But he always had good timing.

She raised the apple to her mouth and took an unladylike chunk out of it, and it rather lost its poetic appeal to him. Kel had always said that he liked the girls purely when they were all ladylike, and then it faded when they went all battle ready on him. It was one of the reasons why he stayed far away from the Yamani ladies. He’d watched Kel a few too many times with that stick of hers, and added to the fact that they all seemed to laugh at him when he spoke, he preferred to avoid the humiliation.

“Are you going to stare all night, Nealan, or are you going to ask me to dance?”

“What?” His head jerked, and he coloured.

“You were gazing at me as though you could spend all Midwinter, and all Midsummer doing it too.” She said tartly, still smiling and not quite smirking.

“I was thinking.” He muttered.

“I hope so.”

“Sorry. It’s just you were eating so unladylike –“

“Says you, who doesn’t eat anything that resembles something from a plant.” She snapped in reply, her smile growing wider.

“ My eating habits aren’t at question. It’s yours.” He retorted.

“ Didn’t your father ever teach you that vegetables and fruit have these wondrous properties?” She drawled, her smile sparkling in the candlelight from the table.

“You sound like Daine. And Kel.”

“Keladry?” She smiled, her tone becoming bitter.

“Yes. And yes, as well. She’s doing really well.”

“ Well we all can’t marry ourselves off to imperial whatnots. Here, eat.” She shoved the apple under his nose, clearly indicating that she wasn't comfortable with where this was going.

“You’ve already taken a big chunk out of it. It looks like it’s been speared.” He said, indignant.

“ If it weren’t unladylike and entirely improper, I’d shoot it in your mouth. Eat it.” Her voice took on the royal command that Roald’s lacked so often.

“No.”

“Rank pulling.” 

“No! Not fair!”

“Temper tantrum. The nursery’s upstairs.”

“I hate you.” He muttered. She smirked, shaking her head at him.

“Regicide?” He rolled his eyes, and stepped back. Her smile grew wider as he bowed.

“Your Royal Highness. Princess Kalasin.” She extended her hand to him.

“Squire Nealan. I hope your squire duties are not too exerting?” His lips brushed across the back of her hand, and he held her fingers tighter than what most noblemen did.

“Not at all, princess. I merely delight in the freedom of my duties and the chance to spend this precious time in your company.” He lightly mocked.

“In that case, you must not waste such precious time. Here, eat some apple. You cannot waste your time talking when you could be eating as well. I insist, Squire Nealan.” 

“If I eat this, you must dance with me, oh flower of the brook, glimmering in the night sky.” 

“Do you spout that to Alanna or Aly, or Maude when they force you to do something?” She said, trying to hide her laugh and not succeeding.

“No. They pale in comparison to you. You are like a white rose, shining in moonlight, in comparison to their dark pink and red roses.” He drawled, while she rolled her eyes at the ceiling.

“White roses mean death, Neal.” It was a bitter reminder of the past.

“And we are not fated to last.” They both smiled, bitter but yet accepting. “You shall go to Carthak, and I shall remain behind, pining for the remnants of our love.”

“I’ll give you a tip. When you meet your lovely flower, try to cut back on the dramatics. You’ve been spending too much time with Aly and George and their Player friends.” She whispered.

“I’m sure I have. Taught me so many things, those two.”

“ And did they teach you to dance?” In answer, he took her other hand, and she stood. He let go of her hands, and bowing, offered his arm. She slid her arm through it, pulling him closer, as he led them towards the floor. They took their positions, albeit closer then the normal princess and her partner. His hand rested in the small of her back, her hand on his shoulder and their hands clasped. He looked down at the scant difference between their heights, and she smiled easily back at him. The music began at a slow waltz, and carefully, they took their first step.

“Princess Kalasin. I’m sorry to interrupt, but you promised the Gallan ambassador and his children a dance tonight.” Cythera’s eyes were warm, and Kalasin looked away with a sigh.

“Yes, Cythera. Just give me a minute.”

“Jilted again.” She smiled, sadly.

“As per usual.” He smiled back.

“ You’ll have to leave, won’t you. I’m sorry, Neal.”

“Yes. Early morning. I’m sorry too, Kally.”

“Maybe someday.” She smiled, and he could see the small tear trickle down her cheek.

“Someday.” He pulled her closer, hugging her for mere seconds, before pulling back, and placing a kiss on each cheek, only slightly formally. She stepped back, and gave a small wave, and he watched as she walked across the floor and away from him.

.

“So did you dance with Kalasin last night?” Kel asked, curious, at breakfast. Neal stared moodily into his porridge.

“Did Cleon kiss you for Midwinter luck?” He asked sarcastically. He missed the dart of hurt across her face, as well as the blush that spread. He returned morosely to the rest of his thoughts. Kally was different to everyone else. She was the one who had comforted him after his brother’s death, when he refused to leave his rooms in the palace. She’d been visiting his father, and Baird had asked her to see him. To see the pain that he couldn’t face. She’d held his hand as he sat in the corner, and made the air around their hands sparkle with the blue light. He hadn’t realised what she was doing until after it happened, and she'd somehow managed to calm him through his grief and anger. She’d dragged him up and they’d snuck out of the suite by a passageway Neal hadn’t known existed, and she’d dragged him to the royal gardens. She snipped enough white roses for a bouquet for both of them, and then dragged him into the Forest. They walked until they came to a clearing next to the Olorun, and she laid each flower in, one by one. He followed suit as they watched them drift downstream, and from then they had been close. It may have been the fact that they were both healers, how the littlest thing could have a bigger effect. It may have been anything. There was lost potential there.

.

She opened the box curiously. Kaddar leant over her shoulder. 

“What is it?” He asked, pressing his lips into her shoulder.

“A present from Duke Baird and his family. He’s the Chief Healer. I was close to his son when we were younger. He's engaged to one of the Yamani ladies that came with Shinko.” Her fingers touched the rose, sitting carefully in the box along with a parcel of seeds, letters and Baird’s wrapped present. Kaddar looked from the rose to his wife, and smiled.

“I’ll ask the gardeners to see if they can plant them outside our windows. A reminder of home.” He smiled. She smiled at him in return, before returning her gaze to the rose.

“Yes. A reminder of home.”


End file.
